


Something like a Pipedream

by tobiyos



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Creampie, Crying, Dacryphilia, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Housewife Mishima Yuuki, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Top Akechi Goro, Yeah you heard me right, bottom mishima yuuki, i still firmly believe mishima cries during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29566794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobiyos/pseuds/tobiyos
Summary: “You’re so pretty,” Goro coos, nosing at the back of Mishima’s neck. “Such a good little homemaker. You know, my coworkers are always asking who makes my lunches every day. They say it makes them jealous,” he breathes, lips ghosting the side of Mishima’s neck as he trembles gently. “Do you want to know what I tell them?”“What do you t-tell—”“I tell them the truth, of course. That I’ve got a perfect little wife at home—and she treats mefarbetter than she should.”--Married bliss looks a little bit different for everyone.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Mishima Yuuki
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Something like a Pipedream

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii new day new Mishima ship it seems . I didn't even like this for a while there until I got a good Taste for the dynamic, and also this tag was sorely missing some good old fashioned pwp. Welcome to my housewife Mishima fic, also know in my files as the "Manipulate, Mansplain, Malewife" fic.

Goro never really understood the idea of a ‘home life.’

Why there needed to be a separate sort of sphere that was exclusively for _relaxing_ seemed something of an unneeded fantasy, some pipedream for people who thought they’d be around long enough to see a spouse, or kids, or really just anything to care for other than themselves.

And maybe _understood_ is wrong too, because he supposes he could grasp the concept easily enough, but the _appeal_ was never there.

Not until Mishima, at least.

“I’m home,” Goro yells, sliding his shoes off at the door. His apartment is alight and warm like there’s been a body in it all day, which, Goro supposes there has been, though it’s clean enough that this would be difficult to tell at first glance. There are a second pair of shoes by the door, perfectly straight and pushed against the wall, and Goro smiles as he undoes his tie, glancing down the hallway.

“Welcome back!” Mishima shouts, and Goro picks his way across the apartment into the kitchen, leaning against the wall as Mishima fusses with the food spread out over the counters. He looks exactly like he had when Goro left him this morning, though significantly less sleepy and significantly more dressed, if the t-shirt-sweatpants-apron combo can be called that. It doesn’t make him look any less sweet, with cheeks flushed from the heat of the stove and a little bit of flour on his face.

“You’re home early!” Mishima chirps, eyes brightening as he glances up from cutting bell peppers to look Goro’s way. From anyone else, Goro would probably bristle, sensing some underlying sense of accusation from the phrasing alone, but it’s difficult to read Mishima as anything other than disgustingly earnest, perking up like a dog with its owner coming home.

Goro shoves off of the wall with a quiet laugh, fingers lingering at the wall behind him for a moment. “Would you believe me if I said it’s because I missed you?”

Mishima presses his thumb to his chin and furrows his eyebrows, apparently deep in thought. He’s so cute. Goro wants to eat him alive. “Hmm… nope,” he says, after a moment, toting off the peppers to add into a pan Goro can see is on low heat, crackling at the skillet above it quietly.

“You’re right,” Goro laughs, crossing the kitchen to wrap his hands around Mishima’s hips. “Sae let me leave early.” Mishima is warm when Goro presses in close to his back, and his hair smells like Goro’s shampoo when he presses his forehead to the crown of Mishima’s head. “I did miss you, though.”

“Sure you did,” Mishima giggles, pressing a hand over Goro’s on his hips. Goro lifts his face away from Mishima’s hair when his head tilts, letting go of a satisfied hum as Mishima presses his nose to his jaw.

“What, you don’t believe me?”

“I think you like to sweet talk me,” Mishima purrs.

“Oh, now that’s not fair,” Goro whispers, and pulls Mishima back until they’re slotted from head to toe. He feels the excited little exhale that breaks Mishima’s lips on the outside of his neck. “How am I supposed to convince you I’m serious?”

Mishima gives another contemplative hum. “Kiss me?”

“Oh, we can do better than that, can’t we?” Goro asks, even as he leans close enough to ghost his mouth over Mishima’s. “Come on. How am I supposed to show you _how much_ I missed you through one little kiss?”

Another little exhale of Mishima’s on his skin, a flutter of his boyfriend’s eyelashes. Mishima is an open book on most days, and Goro loves watching the way his face scrunches and relaxes expressively, like a doll he can wind up and set loose. Goro winds, and winds, and winds, and even up close he can see the way Mishima flushes a beautiful pink when he feels hands slip under the cute little apron, skirting down to splay over Mishima’s hips.

“I d-don’t know,” Mishima says, his voice dipping straight into breathless territory, high and reedy. He gives a nervous little laugh that makes Goro warm with gross, sickly affection. “ _Ah_ , G-Goro, I’m cooking.”

“I didn’t say you have to _stop_ cooking,” Goro says, even as one of his hands push up underneath Mishima’s loose t-shirt onto his little soft stomach. Goro loves his stomach too, just because Mishima doesn’t, which means he can spend all of his time lavishing his body in slow, exploitative kisses, and nosing up against the adorable give of his stomach, the soft bit of skin on his sides, trying to make Mishima see him the way he does.

Mishima shivers, beautifully, and Goro presses their noses together in a way that would have made him sneer, before. He would have called it superficial, lovey-dovey, downright _embarrassing_. How things change. “How about a reward for being such a perfect little angel, then?”

“H-huh?” Mishima breathes, hunching over with a gasp when Goro palms at his cock gently. “ _Oh_ , w-wait, Goro—”

“You’re so pretty,” Goro coos, nosing at the back of Mishima’s neck. “Such a good little homemaker. You know, my coworkers are always asking who makes my lunches every day. They always say it makes them _jealous_ ,” he breathes, lips ghosting the side of Mishima’s neck as he trembles gently. “Do you want to know what I tell them?”

Mishima’s voice catches as he clutches the wooden spoon he was using to stir with to his chest. He’s flushed all the way to the back of his neck, and Goro can’t help the way it makes his stomach roll pleasantly, leaning closer until it feels like they can mold into one person. “What do you t-tell— _ah_.”

“I tell them the truth, of course. That I’ve got a perfect little wife at home—and she treats me _far_ better than she should.”He can feel Mishima’s cock hardening under his hand slowly, even as he just strokes at the shape of it teasingly through Mishima’s sweatpants. “I tell them she’s pretty, and small, and much too good for me. And I love her _so_ much.”

“Really?” Mishima breathes, glancing over his shoulder. “Goro—”

Goro slots their mouths together gently, and Mishima moans like he’s aching, drowning as Goro just slides them together perfectly. His lips are soft, tongue slick as Goro kisses him, working Mishima up solely with his hand. “You’re so pretty, so good for me, Yuuki. My perfect little wife.”

“ _Goro,_ ” Mishima whines, hips bucking gently into Goro’s hand.

“Don’t forget dinner, now, sweetheart,” Goro purrs, lifting a hand to grab Mishima by the jaw and turn him back to look at the stove. “I can take care of you while you take care of me.”

“ _Mmmhn,_ it’s going to be— _h-hah_ —hard to c-cook like this.”

“Why?” Goro asks, hooking a thumb in the waistband of Mishima’s pants. They’re loose on his hips, enough for Goro to slide them down over his tiny frame, his flat ass. They’re also big enough for Goro to notice that they’re _his_ , and, looking at it, so is the shirt hanging off of Mishima’s back. Did he really miss him _that_ much?

“You’re so perfect,” Goro whispers. “You can’t cook while I fuck you?” Mishima lets out a short, breathless little gasp that has Goro smiling into his shoulder, rocking their hips together in a crude little imitation of what he _could_ be doing. “Didn’t you hear me say I missed you? I can’t get enough of you, _Yuuki._ ”

“If you want—” Mishima pants, shakily reaching out to stir some of the searing vegetables in the pan. Oh, he’s so _good_. “If you want to fuck me, you always can, Goro.”

Goro can’t keep in a pleased little groan as he runs his hands up Mishima’s deliciously bare skin. “That’s good,” he breathes, and reaches around to give Mishima’s cock a tug.

Mishima’s whole body shakes when Goro wraps a hand around him, and then his legs start to tremble, and Goro can’t help it, mouthing up the side of his neck as he strokes his boyfriend off slowly and deliberately, pushing the dripping head of his cock into the soft material of the apron.

“Wish I could just keep you lubed up and ready for me all day,” Goro says into his skin, leaning up to nip at Mishima’s ear as his hand slows. “Wouldn’t you like it if I could just come home and bend you over the counter?”

“Mhm,” Mishima whimpers, hips swaying as Goro rocks against him.

“I know you would,” Goro coos, and presses a hand flat against Mishima’s hip, until he can feel the hard line of Goro’s cock through his slacks as it nestles up against his ass. “I bet you spend all the time you’re not cooking, or cleaning, or chatting up the other little housewives in the complex with your ass up in our bed.” Mishima shivers as Goro drags nails up his skin, “Just waiting for me to come home, moaning, _Goro, Goro_ —”

“ _Goro_ ,” Mishima whimpers, and Goro smiles.

“Just like that, honey. You’ve got it.”

Mishima whimpers when Goro pulls away, falling like he’s had his strings cut. Goro wants to put his hands back on him immediately, especially when he hears the desperate shaky breath Mishima sucks in. “W-where are you going?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder.

Goro slides his tongue over the back of his teeth to keep himself calm, in check. It’s always hard when Mishima’s eyes glitter and darken, his eyelashes grouped together as tears bead together in unshed drops. He loves when Mishima cries, because it’s the best way for Goro to know he feels so good he can’t even hold it together enough to control himself.

“I’d rather not fuck you dry, sweetheart,” Goro murmurs, leaning forward to sweep hair out of his face. Mishima’s eyes fall closed on instinct, and Goro sucks in a sharp breath as the first tear slides over the pretty flush high on his cheeks. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” Mishima breathes, glancing back at the food as Goro slips away into their bedroom. He works quick, slipping his tie off and tossing it over the edge of their bed, swiping the lube off of the bedside table. He snorts when he sees it’s almost empty, before rushing back out of the room and beelining for the kitchen.

“Did you wait like I asked you to?” Goro asks, pressing a hand to Mishima’s back just above his ass, grinning as his hand barely curves out. Mishima nods instead of answering, like he can’t trust himself to speak. It makes something possessive swim around his bones happily, his fingertips lighting up the second he gets them back on Mishima’s bare skin. “You didn’t even think about touching yourself, did you?”

“How could I?” Mishima whispers, with a tame little shiver, breath quickening when Goro pops the cap on the lube with a _click_. “It always feels so good when you do it.”

“Aw,” Goro coos, sliding a slick fingers down Mishima’s ass, right up to press just barely inside of him. “You like it when I touch you that much?”

Mishima squeaks and groans, head dropping forward as Goro slides his finger in ever so slowly. “Y-yeah. Even when I’m alone, i-it’s never enough to just think of you, I— _fuck_ , I— _Goro_.”

“I’ve got you,” Goro whispers, rocking his finger in and out of Mishima gently. He’s not exceptionally tight, though Goro knows he probably wasn’t far off base by assuming Mishima had spent a little time out of the day doing a little… self-care. It doesn’t stop the thought from making Goro press another too hot kiss to Mishima’s already burning skin, taking care to keep the pace of his fingers slow even as he suddenly wants to push Mishima over and give him what he’d apparently been missing _all_ day.

He knows how Mishima bruises, how one little scrape from Goro’s teeth will leave a mark to bloom beautiful and purple for days to come, and Mishima knows it too, whimpering helplessly as Goro marks him more and more in his desperation.

He slides in a second finger and Mishima’s shoulders start to tremble, reaching down to fist a hand in the bottom of his apron. “C-can you… I already…”

“You already what, Yuuki?” Goro asks, resting his chin on Mishima’s shoulder. “I don’t know what you mean if you don’t tell me.”

He makes another short, broken sound when Goro just barely presses a third finger to his stretched hole, before backing off and going back to a slow, unsatisfying rock of his fingers. “I fucked myself, already,” Mishima chokes out, hand going back to the counter. “So, you could, _mhg!_ So, you could have me w-when you came home.”

“ _God_ ,” Goro groans, as his fingers slip free. He reaches for the lube again, pressing Mishima up against the stove. “You really want it that badly?” It’s not a question, not really, not when Mishima is shaking as Goro unbuckles his pants as loudly as possible, hand skirting around to slide up Mishima’s shirt again, fingers catching on the little soft peak of his nipple. “Say, _please_ , for me, Yuuki.”

“P-please—” Mishima chokes out, cut off when Goro presses his cock up against his ass. “Oh, _fuck_ , _please_ , Goro.”

“Be patient, won’t you?” Goro says, reaching down to guide his cock towards Mishima’s hole. “Otherwise, you’ll start to sound _desperate_.”

Mishima jerks and groans when Goro slams inside him all at once, knocking his hip into the side of the stove. Mishima doesn’t seem to mind it though, throwing his head back on Goro’s shoulder as he takes deep, shaky breathes. His voice is like little prickles of heat on Goro’s skin, climbing up his arms and his throat as he presses his hand right against Mishima’s too quick heartbeat.

“All better now, right?” he coos, sliding his hand up Mishima’s chest to sit low at the base of his throat. He can feel the ridges of bone and muscle, the way Mishima’s throat jumps as Goro gives a cursory, near uncontrollable grind of his hips that sends his beautiful boyfriend reeling and scrambling for the countertop.

“Yes, _nnn—ah!_ Yes, yes, _yes_ —”

 _Fuck_ , if Goro doesn’t love the way he sounds. He digs fingers into Mishima’s hip as he slides out, so slowly, and pulls him back to slam in all at once, knocking the breath out of Mishima as Goro holds him still. He presses his cheek to Mishima’s and fucks him in shallow, hard thrusts that make pale hands scramble at the counters, the shelves, _anything_ for purchase, until Goro presses him back harder against his chest and grinds his hips in slow, deep circles.

“I missed you _so_ much,” Goro groans, as Mishima hiccups out drowned little moans. “I couldn’t wait to come home to you.”

“Goro!” Mishima rasps, voice going high as Goro presses his free hand against his stomach. “Please, I—h-harder, I want it—”

“Shh,” Goro says, hand sliding further up Mishima’s neck until he can slide fingers across his tongue and down into his throat. “Don’t you want it to last?” he whispers, with another slow grind that sounds like it’s driving Mishima _insane_. He lets another little tear slip out of the corner of his eye, and Goro glides his lips over the wet spot, drawing salty water onto his tongue.

He groans when Mishima’s tongue moves weakly, pressing between his fingers, and then gasps when he _sucks_ , almost desperately, the way he does when he has his mouth around Goro’s cock, looking up at him with teary eyes and dark eyelashes.

“Oh, honey,” Goro breathes, and presses down on his tongue. “Let me take care of you, alright?” Mishima nods, and mewls around his fingers, and Goro starts fucking him again, deeper, and deeper, until Mishima is shaking on his legs like he wouldn’t be holding himself up were it not for Goro’s arm around his chest, the firm grip on his hip. Goro hopes that bruises, too.

He sobs with every thrust of Goro’s hips, until his voice is wet and warbly with tears, breath hiccupping out of him firmly as Goro starts to fuck slick fingers in and out of his mouth. He slides a hand under Mishima’s thigh and growls when he lifts his leg up onto the counter, stretching Mishima’s spine long and angling himself _just_ right to hit Mishima’s prostate.

“ _Fuh—unnhg!”_ Mishima slurs around his finger, hips twitching and shoulders jerking. Goro laughs when he slams a hand against the overhead cabinets, his voice breaking on every breathless moan he takes. “Fuh—ck _, fuh—uhh, nggh!”_

“I know, sweetheart,” Goro coos, voice shaky as he holds Mishima still. “It feels good, right? You wanna come?”

Mishima’s head jerks into a desperate nod, and Goro delights in the way his back arches away from Goro’s chest when he wraps a hand around his cock, jerking him in time with each slap of their hips. He’s starting to lose control though, spiraling out of that slow, easy pace as he gets closer, as Mishima’s poor abused insides squeeze at his cock desperately.

“Come on, Yuuki,” Goro sighs, with another jerk of his hips. “Fuck, I’ll fill you up _perfectly_.”

Mishima whines when he comes, loud and broken up by the sobbing breaths he takes, and Goro holds him up with the hand on his hip as his cock spills across Goro’s hand, the inside of his apron. He’d try and poke a little fun at him, but he can’t, not when he’s so close, and Mishima is still sobbing, nails scraping at the wood of their cabinets as Goro comes with a gasp, grinding out his orgasm to whimpers and shakes and cries, pushing his come as deep as it’ll go.

“There,” Goro sighs, easing Mishima’s shaky leg back onto the floor, sliding fingers out of his mouth. He feels disgusting and satisfied, and horribly endeared as Mishima lifts a hand up to wipe away at the tears staining his face with Goro’s unrolled shirt sleeves. “Will you believe me next time I say I missed you?”

Mishima laughs, and braces his hands against the stove. “Probably not.”

Goro hums. “That’s all right. I’ll show you all you’d like.” He peeks over Mishima’s shoulder. “I’m surprised you didn’t burn the food.”

“I turned it off,” Mishima snorts, wincing as Goro slides his softened cock out of him, stepping back to pull at Mishima’s ass and take in the slow dribble of come out of his body. There’s another quick stab of heat that goes through him at the sight. “I figured we’d be a minute,” Mishima says, glancing over his shoulder at Goro with a sweet, sated little smile.

“I knew I liked you,” Goro hums, bending over to slide Mishima’s sweatpants back up his legs. “My smart, beautiful little homemaker.”

Mishima pouts when Goro kisses him, turning his head to look out of the corner of his eye. “What happened to your little _wife_?”

Goro blinks, half incredulously. “You _liked_ that?”

“Was I not _supposed_ to?” Mishima asks, spinning on his heel.

“No, I—” Goro’s gaze jumps back to his slick, swollen mouth, the color still lingering on his face. “I mean, you can like it if you want.”

“Good,” Mishima whispers. “I like it.” Goro glances back down at him when Mishima puts a hand on his chest, and leans up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Can you leave me to make dinner for _real_ now? I promise I’ll make it good in thanks for… um… well, everything I suppose.”

Goro loves him so much it’s painful. God, what he wouldn’t give up for Mishima, and his eager little face, lit up and determined. He leans down to steal another kiss. “You’re too cute.”

Mishima tries to push him away but it’s a weak thing, and soon enough Goro’s got him swept up in his arms, kissing the marred slope of his neck as Mishima giggles. “ _Goro_ ,” he says, a reminder.

“Yeah, yeah,” Goro sighs, pulling away at last. “I suppose I’ll leave you to it.” He watches Mishima’s eyes sparkle in the kitchen lights, and thinks very distinctly that he’d very much like to kiss him again.

“ _Go_ ,” Mishima urges, with a gently shove at Goro’s shoulder.

Goro grins, and slips away for the bedroom. “Whatever you want, honey.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Oh to be a pretty detective with a sweet little crybaby wife...
> 
> Anyway! I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/tobi_yos) if you wanna come say hi, and I am always willing to talk about Mishima. Laterz


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